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0 England, attend, while thy fate I deplore, Eehearsing the schemes and the conduct of power; And since only of those who have power I sing,
1 am sure none can think that I hint at the King.
From the time his son made him old Eobin depose, All the power of a King he was well known to lose-; But of all but the name and the badges bereft, Like old women, his paraphernalia are left.
To tell how he shook in St. James's for fear, When first these new ministers bullied him there, Makes my blood boil with rage, to think what a thing They have made of a man we obey as a King.
Whom they pleas'd they put in, whom they pleas'd they
And just like a top they all lash'd him about, Whilst he like a top with a murmuring noise, Seem'd to grumble, but turn'd to these rude lashing boys.
At last Carteret arriving, spoke thus to his grief,
'If you'll make me your Doctor, I'll bring you relief;
You see to your closet familiar I come,
And seem like my wife in the circle—at home.'
Quoth the King, ' My good Lord, perhaps you've been told, That I used to abuse you a little of old ; But now bring whom you will, and eke turn away, Let but me and my money, and Walmoden'1 stay.'
'For you and Walmoden, I freely consent,
But as for your money, I must have it spent;
I have promis'd your son (nay, no frowns,) shall have some,
Nor think 'tis for nothing we Patriots are come.
* Lady Yarmouth. Walpole.